Wounds so Deep
by Lass of the Lake
Summary: "They don't hurt so bad with you here to heal me." She had a desire for equal treatment, but Fred couldn't stand to see her in Pain


**A/N: This is in direct correlation with my story, Fighting Gravity. Sparrow wasn't there when the DA was busted by Umbridge and the inquisitorial squad and now she feels bad about it**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. J.K. Rowling owns all. Hail the Queen!**

_Wounds so Deep_

_"They don't hurt so much with you here to heal me."_

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><p>It was half-past ten o'clock at night when the last of the remaining DA members being held for punishment were released. Fred and George were among them, examining the cuts made by the quills on their hands and trying not to rub at the painful little marks. Nigel was the youngest DA member, aside from Dennis Creevey, and was the only one under fourth year to be kept back this late. He was crying and his hand bled profusely. The twins looked at one another before each putting a hand on his shoulder and leaning down to his height.<p>

"Alright there, Nigel?" George asked, patting the small boy on the back.

The blubbering boy made a pitiful attempt to say something to the two to confirm that he was alright, but the words wouldn't come out, so he only nodded. His slightly pudgy face, still rounded from childhood, was a pattern of red and white blotches.

On his other side, Fred said, "Hey, look at this way; the pain won't last forever, and when it heals, you'll have a cool scar to impress girls with." Fred rolled back the sleeve that obscured his hand slightly, pointing around where the fresh cuts were to the scar patches underneath. "See? You can say you got yours while participating in a rally against a corrupt Ministry."

Nigel looked awestruck at the scar tissue that surrounded the words on Fred's hand, and he broke out into a smile. He looked down at his own hand where the cuts didn't seem to have as much sting as before, and then back at Fred. "You think Sparrow would like my scar?"

George took a good minute to laugh at Fred's stunned expression. Nigel looked back and forth between the two, confused by the reactions of the two. Usually, they reacted in pretty similar fashions, but right now they were worlds apart. Nigel didn't see anything odd about wanting to impress Sparrow - she was beautiful, smart and funny - even though he was a good four years younger than the girl in question, being that he was a second year and she a sixth. He was unaware that Fred, himself, was interested in impressing Sparrow. Fred recovered himself, saying, "I'm sure Sparrow would love to see your scar."

"I would, as a matter of fact," a voice said just as a figure melted out of the shadows. It was Sparrow, much to the shock of all three boys. She wore a black jacket that hugged her small frame and jeans. Her normally elaborately styled hair was pulled up into a simple pony tail that fanned out like a midnight black veil. The frightening icy-cobalt blue of her eyes stood out from the rest of her which flowed in and out of the shadows like the tide.

Nigel's face broke out into a bright blush while George snickered quietly to himself. Fred stood up to his full height, caught between smiling and glaring at the small girl. Her pearly whites gleamed innocently at him as she stepped all the way out of the shadows.

George, miraculously, was the first to address her. "Great Merlin, girl, what are you doing out of bed? If Umbridge or Filch or that sod Malfoy and the Inquisitorial squad catch you, you'll be no better off than the rest of us."

Sparrow's eyes gleamed in the torchlight off to their right. "Malfoy may be... engaged for quite some time," she answered elusively, "not that it matters. I should be in that class room with all of you, enduring the same punishment as you. If someone hadn't had the poor sense to wipe my name from the list after I 'stopped attending meetings,' I would." And by someone, she meant Hermione, who had erased her name from the list when she'd been enlisted as a distraction.

"You know you- Wait, what did you do to Malfoy?" Fred was going to assure her that it was a good thing she hadn't been caught, but he was interested by what the little bird had done to the prat of a boy.

Sparrow's lips quirked upward in a small smirk, turning her head to the side so the dim torch light illuminated the side of her face and tracing a long cut that ran across her cheek with a finger. "Nothing he didn't deserve," she said, once again avoiding telling them exactly what she'd done to the arrogant fifth year. Fred, however, was more curious than ever and the sight of the small gash that marred her face inflamed his anger. He took a few steps forward, but halted himself a couple feet from her when she held out a hand. "I'm fine, Fred. He's worse off than me, believe me."

Fred was about to tell her that it wasn't okay and that he'd be paying Malfoy a visit, but Nigel's voice piped up behind him. "Hey! Sparrow! You want to see the cuts I got?" he asked excitedly, oblivious to anything but the girl in front of him.

Sparrow smiled at the little boy, saying, "Yeah, sure Nigel. Let me see 'em," and stole forward, past Fred. Fred gritted his teeth and turned to see Sparrow lean down to cover the small height difference between her and Nigel and examine the hand he presented to her. From her new position, the thin line was far more visible. He could see the dried blood around the edges, even where the skin had split open. "'I will not question authority?'" the black haired girl asked with a smile, making the straight line on her cheek crinkle. "That doesn't seem like you at all, Nigel. You seem the type to always do what you think is right, even when authority says its wrong."

Nigel blushed at her small praises. "Thank you, Sparrow. I promise to always do what's right, no matter the consequences!"

And with his promise, the boy dried his tears and ran off towards the Gryffindor dorms. Sparrow looked a little surprised, but the surprise melted into a pleased grin and she straightened herself out, stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets and turning towards the twins. Both were grinning at her. "What?" she asked.

"Alright that was bloody brilliant," stated George. "Nothing like a pretty girl's compliments to make a fellow feel better, eh, Fred?"

Fred nodded in agreement. "Kid's completely mad for you, too."

George snickered. "Nigel's not the only one," he said, nudging his twin who nudged him back, trying to cover up the blush on his cheeks. "Speaking of Nigel, better follow him back to the dorms, make sure he doesn't get lost on those stair cases. I assume you two will be alright on your own?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Fred turned to his twin and shoved him, making both George and Sparrow laugh. Once the quieter of the twins had gone, Fred turned to Sparrow with a frown, which immediately quieted her giggles. He approached her, stepping into the light that illuminated her and casting her within his shadow in order to stop the mind bending twisting of the flame in her eyes. His massive form stopped with only about a foot between them, looming over her so that she had to look up to meet his eyes. "What are you doing down here?" he asked seriously.

Sparrow's eyes narrowed slightly, but her expression remained placid. "I think you already know the answer to that." She gestured toward the classroom. "I should be in there! I'm more guilty than any of you. I must have broken twice as many of the school rules than the rest of you did, and here I am, getting off scott-free while I watch you all come out cut up by her outlandish and cruel punishment." Sparrow glowered darkly at the wooden door, her eyes glinting dangerously in the low-light, and for a second, Fred thought he saw her flash her teeth. "I think she knows I was involved. She's trying to push me."

Fred was surprised. If Umbridge knew anything about Sparrow's illicit activities, wouldn't the toad just find a reason to punish her and stick her in with the rest of them? On the contrary, Umbridge seemed to have taken to Sparrow a bit. "What makes you think-"

_Oh..._

The truth hit Fred like a ton of bricks. Umbridge would never take to Sparrow - not with Sparrow being so free and independent - unless she had an ulterior reason to. A reason like riling the girl up. Umbridge and Sparrow were well acquainted, so of course Umbridge would expect her to be involved with the DA, regardless of the physical proof or not. But without the proof, High Inquisitor or not, Umbridge couldn't do anything to her.

Except, perhaps, throw the fact that her friends were being punished while she was - figuratively, of course - recieving a cookie for her behavior. Umbridge knew that would irritate her until Sparrow was forced to admit everything and take the blame. It was the kind of person Sparrow was, and she couldn't just accept getting off like that while the rest of them suffered. Fred fisted his hands. It was not okay for anyone to do that. "Don't give in to her; we need someone on the outside, who's not in trouble... just in case. You never know when someone off the radar could come in handy." And speaking of things that were not okay... Fred lifted one hand to trace the line of Sparrow's cheek where the cut was. "What did Malfoy do to you?" he asked, sounding more calm than he felt.

Fred didn't like the idea of that little weasle being near his girl. Even if she wasn't technically his girl... he hadn't asked her to be yet. He wanted her to be his girl though, and he thought she wanted him to be her man.

Sparrow leaned into his hand slightly, and Fred was shocked to see that the moment she did this, the points where it had started to scab over broke open and blood began to pour from the cut. It seemed like a lot of blood - too much blood. It seemed so dark in the small amount of light the torches provided. But Sparrow's eyes were like lights when she opened them. "He wanted me to... be with him, to say it mildly."

Fred didn't even have to think about it to know what she was talking about. That bastard had wanted her to sleep with him. It made sense - Sparrow came from a long line of pure-bloods, like Fred himself, and she was gorgeous, if a little exotic looking. But still... thinking she would just... with _him_.

Fred became ridgid, clenching his jaw so tightly that several muscles fluttered. He wanted to run off and kill that stupid little arse. What right did he have to ask a girl - any girl, let alone a girl so out of his league - for sex? It was disrespectful. The only reason he hadn't gone was that Sparrow's touch kept him rooted to the ground and he was unable to leave her. And besides, she'd said she'd taken care of him, right? Which meant he might very well be lying around in a corridor somewhere, and Fred didn't want to wander aimlessly and risk missing a prime opportunity.

"What happened after that?" he asked, voice tight and strained

Sparrow's lips lost there upward tilt. "I said no, of course. Malfoy... well, he didn't like being turned down. He shoved me into the wall and I sliced my face on one of the bricks. Realizing he was advancing on me again, I hexed him." Fred smiled, knowing that Sparrow had omitted the name of the hex on purpose. "And then put a silencing charm on him for good measure and locked him in that closet that changes locations throughout the castle."

"Doesn't that closet-"

"Lock from the outside?" she finished with a cute smile, making him roll his eyes. "Yeah, it does, and let me tell you, there is nothing more satisfying than knowing that the boy who causes so much hell for your friends is stuck in a closet and no one can hear their cries to be set free."

Fred leaned down and closed the gap between their mouths, laying a sweet kiss on her lips. It was short and tame, but meaningful. Her eyes fluttered back open when he pulled back with a large smile. "You're kind of great," he said easily. But he still didn't like the look of the scratch on her face... it was unbecoming of her beauty. "You want to go to the hospital wing to get this fixed?" he asked, his hand tracing the air about an inch from the skin.

Sparrow smiled but shook her head. "Nah, makes me look tough," she said with a slight gruff edge to her voice that made Fred, so close to her, vibrate with a small chuckle. "Besides, my wounds aren't as deep as yours." Sparrow grabbed the hand that was still tracing over the scratch on her face and held it up in the dim light for her to look at. Fred couldn't read the scrawl anymore, due to a couple different phrases being written one on top of the other, but she still seemed fascinated. He was suddenly reminded of the day he'd met her and the words on her hand had been scratched deep enough to hit bone. A brief glance at her hand showed it had closed up and scarred now, but he still remembered her neat scrawl written across her hand in deep slashes.

Fred remembered that day like it was yesterday, though it had almost been a month now. A whole month. A month of his brother and Angelina walking around, holding hands. A whole month of Fred not giving a damn because of a short girl with colbalt eyes and the guts to tell him what she really thought.

A whole month _he_ hadn't had the guts to ask Sparrow to be his and only his.

Sparrow laid her lips over the deep marks on his hand, gently kissing it better. To be honest, it kind of stung, but Fred wasn't about to tell her so; he refused to shatter this moment he had with the little bird. But when her lips left his hand, he was absolutely shocked to see that the cuts were partially healed - no longer jagged and seeming to close before his very eyes. It didn't heal completely, but felt much better. Fred looked up at Sparrow with surprise and she just smiled coyly. "How'd you do that?" he asked, bewildered and bewitched. He hadn't seen a sign of her wand, nor had she ever uttered an incantation. Sometimes, Fred was convinced she had a magic all her own.

Sparrow smiled and held a finger to her lips - she wasn't going to tell him. And that was okay; he'd get it out of her eventually.

The clock struck eleven, gonging out loudly around the school. Neither of the rebellious teens so much as flinched away from each other at the sound, but it was a reminder of how late it was and how much they weren't supposed to out here. Sparrow sighed. "I have to get back to my dorm," she told him mournfully.

He nodded. "And I mine."

Still they didn't move away from each other. At some point, they'd moved to hold hands, fingers entwined, scarred hand to scarred hand. They both had scars and wounds that needed to heal. It didn't matter if his were deeper or not - he never wanted to see her hurt.

It wasn't until they heard the sound of Filch grumbling not too far away and the cranky mewling of Mrs. Norris that the two decided moving would be in their best interest. They didn't seperate though; it was silently understood, without so much as a glance, that he would walk her to her common room door and risk the perils of Filch and Mrs. Norris alone once she was safe in her room.

Fred had long since memorized his was to the Ravenclaw common room, and when they reached the top of the spiral staircase, he wasn't surprised to see the Eagle knocker, seeming to stare right at them. Sparrow didn't reach for the knocker quite yet, not wishing to hear the riddle and leave him just yet (assuming she could find the answer.) Fred had yet to let go of her hand either, so it didn't seem like he was in a hurry to be rid of her either, but neither of them spoke. Not yet.

After a long silence in which the only sound was their breathing and Sparrow's heart pounding in her ears, Fred spoke up. "Back there, you said my wounds were deeper than yours," he started, taking the astute Ravenclaw girl off her guard for a moment. The hand that was joined with hers brushed a thumb over her scars and he looked up at her adoringly. "I think you might be cut down deeper than me."

Sparrow's eyes were trained on his as she asked, "How's your hand?"

"Better," he responded. It was. It didn't hurt anymore. The sharp pain caused by that cursed quill had been dulled to a low ache, like an old bruise. In Sparrow's presence, he could hardly feel it. "You're always fixing me - my cuts or the breaks in my heart." Fred moved in a little closer. "What about you? What about your cuts or the breaks in your heart? Aren't they painful?" Fred whispered in her ear. _Don't you want me to fix them?_ In the short time he'd known her, he'd felt as if he really did know her well and she knew him even better. But she'd seen his heart stabbed and laid out to bleed and still managed to get it working again - reviving him. He wanted to do the same, but none of her cuts were visible.

"They don't hurt so much with you here to heal me."

Fred's breath caught at her words and looked down at the silvery blue of her eyes. There was no hurt there, not even a scar. Nothing to haunt those too-blue depths. And her lack of pain fixed him again and made him bold. Fred pulled her away and held her at arm's length, looking intense and determined. "Sparrow, would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"

Sparrow smiled widely and nodded. She stood up on her tip-toes to kiss him and he met her half-way, enjoying the long, mind-bending kiss with the short, mind-bending girl. She pulled back softly, and he touched their foreheads together.

"No pain here," she whispered softly.

"None."

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><p><strong>AN: Alright, so this has been sitting in a file forever, half-written. I had half a mind to wait till Valntine's, but decided I couldn't.**

**Hey, I'm really thinking about turning them into a mini fanfiction. I enjoy writing their dynamic. Please review and let me know if you think this is a good idea.**

**Until we next meet.**

**Madly Yours,  
>Jassabella<strong>


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